


Like Always

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU probably, Doctor/Master - Freeform, F/M, Heaven Sent spoilers, Non-Explicit Sex, Short, hurt/comfort i suppose, idk when it is set, post-episode maybe, slightly oedipal, time lord/time lord, twissy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I didn't ask you to hurt me,” he says, touching his lip where it's bleeding.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You didn't have to. You never have to ask. Isn't that why you love me?” </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Always

Missy is not surprised when he shows up at the door of her hotel room, tired and bruised, with blood on his shirt and sand in his hair. 

“You found me,” she says, standing aside to let him in. 

“I followed the screams,” he tells her.

“Funny, that's how I find you.” She closes the door and watches as he begins to pace back and forth like something in a cage that should never be locked up. “Is this a social visit?” 

“No. Yes. I don't know.”

She stops him with a hand on his chest, feels the tension build in his muscles. “Did they hurt you?” she asks. He reeks of home, all dust and boredom. Before he can answer she puts a finger to his lips. “Of course they did. They always do.”

“Missy -”

She punches him in the face, hard, sends him reeling backwards against the wall. She spins him round, kicks at his legs until he falls back onto the bed in the middle of the room. “I don't have much in the way of torture equipment here,” she says as she moves to straddle him, “but we can improvise.”

“I didn't ask you to hurt me,” he says, touching his lip where it's bleeding.

“You didn't have to. You never have to ask. Isn't that why you love me?” 

“I just need someone to talk to,” he says, pushing himself up to face her. 

She tuts. “I'm not a therapist, Doctor.” 

“You know,” he says, suddenly intense. “You know about the hybrid.”

“Ah,” she says, “no wonder they hurt you.” She presses her forehead against his and catches a quick shiver of _loss/grief/pain_ before he manages to shut her out. “Come on,” she says, cajoling, “let Missy look at the wound.” He closes his eyes and she guesses. “Such a shame,” she says, “I was quite fond of her.”

His eyes snap open and he glares at her, tries to shift her from his lap but she's not going anywhere. 

“Were you holding back again?” she asks. “Denying yourself?” She smooths his shirt with her hand. “How chivalrous. How ridiculous.”

“I just thought...” he stops, leans against her. 

“I know, Doctor, I know. You thought it might be different this time.” She runs her finger through his hair, stroking his scalp. “Hush now, Missy will make it all better.” With that she pushes him back down, kisses his mouth until he tries to push her off. “Calm down,” she says, “it's only me.” She touches his cheek. “I already know what you are, my love. I've never held it against you, have I?”

He acquiesces silently, doesn't protest when she begins to unfasten his trousers, when she tugs and rolls until he is above her. 

Like always he is gentle and like always she is not. She bites and scratches, she pushes and pulls, she slows

down

time

until she breaks him. He whispers her name, her real name, the one she abandoned so long ago. She replies with his, the alien sounds he has kept from everyone else.

Afterwards she sits with his head in her lap as he cries it all out. She sings a soft Gallifreyan lullaby until he lapses into silence and she judges that he is as calm as he is ever going to get. “You'll always have me,” she tells him quietly. “And I'll always have you.”

He replies, and she locks the words away with the rest of his secrets.


End file.
